


The Sun

by NovelistAngel23



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Extended Metaphors, Fluff, Insecure Jean, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovelistAngel23/pseuds/NovelistAngel23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is so bright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun

He is so bright. I could study him a year long and never see the whole of him.

Something about him goes on and on. Lasts forever. The kind of soul that cannot fade. That cannot age. That cannot die.

Sometimes I reach out as if to touch him and feel like I’m touching pure light. Freckles that are like stars cannot begin to describe him. He is more like the sun, the entirety of it. The heat and the light and the bursting rays. When he walks, life springs at his footsteps.

When he lays beside me, I am engulfed in his fire. When he smiles, I am blinded. The feeling of his hair between my fingers is more than softness—it’s a kind of melted light. His eyes, rays, each of them.

Deep in his chest, there is a supernova soul. I could reach through his bones and feel its burn and enjoy the pain of his light.

When we stand in the sunlight, the ball in the sky cannot compare to the brightness of his own being. He encompasses. The world around him revolves around his gravity.

Even his own name cannot do justice to the beauty that is him in its entirety. Marco. Marco, Marco, Marco.

I could whisper it a million times, in awe, in reverence, in adoration, in love. Still it would never be enough to capture what he is. What he is to me. To the universe.

Sometimes we stand together. At the precipice of the sky and the earth. Grass between our toes. Flowers in his delicate hands. He lets them loose, throws them to the sky, for the wind to return to us. And when he smiles that blinding grin—each shining tooth a part of the sky itself—he turns it to me.

I cannot fathom what it is he sees. How I could ever compare to the sun that he is. How he could ever find me worthy of experiencing his burning light. And yet he holds my hand—so rough and worn compared to the youth in every one of his joints. And his light passes onto me. We could last forever.

Perhaps I’m the moon. Reflecting his light back to him. Absorbing it, adoring it. Thanking him for it. Even when he curls close to me and shares it thanklessly. He kisses my lips to stop the flow of my voice. To assure me, in his silent, graceful way, that there is never a need to thank him.

That we are one. And cannot live without the other. And belong in one concentric orbit.

And although my lips could never be as graceful, when I smile against his smile, I can feel more than the heat—I can feel the welcoming warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK. I KNOW I POSTED SOMETHING ALREADY TODAY. I KNOW. BUT I LISTENED TO THIS GODDAMN SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOQrfLFDUKY&nohtml5=False (whilst I was supposed to be going to sleep, mind you) AND??? THE FEELINGS WERE SO REAL?? OH MY GOD. OH GOD.


End file.
